


The Insomniac's Dream

by Moebius



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect 2 - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 21:41:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/142011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moebius/pseuds/Moebius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's late, and Miranda can't sleep.  She's got someone on her mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Insomniac's Dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [steamblues](https://archiveofourown.org/users/steamblues/gifts).



> This request was a lot of fun to fill. Not just because I got to play a lot of ME2, but also because I really enjoy the character of Miranda. This takes place shortly after the events of the game, and stars a Paragonish Shepard with a bit of Renegade in her, that's an Earthborn Soldier. Not that most of those details are important, but they were in my head at the time.

_From: Oriana_

 _Miranda,_

 _Remember what I wrote to Shepard about guardian angels? It was right after we met, and I know you read the message. I don’t know what happened to you, or what you’ve been doing, but the tone of your messages has changed. Something big went down, didn’t it?_

 _Everything is okay here. I’m finishing out my first degree in exobiology. You’d hate the professor. He’s a turian that can’t stand humans._

 _Will you tell me what happened? I know trying to hop subjects won’t work on you. It’s such textbook psychology, I’m not sure why I even bothered. Probably some big secret thing, isn’t it? Is this why you told me not to go to Earth to study? Does it have to do with the geth?_

 _Back to guardian angels, I guess. Shepard kept you safe, whatever it was that you went through, just like I asked her to. I’ve read up on her, and she’s pretty intense. I can’t imagine what it’s like to work for the Hero of the Citadel. You barely talk about her when you write. I know it’s not because there’s nothing to say. Maybe there’s too much to say?_

 _Anyway, don’t forget we all need angels._

 _Your sister,  
Oriana_

 _PS: Warm milk._

Miranda shuts off her monitor. She can’t sleep. It must be close to 0300 hours and she’s read through Oriana’s latest message fifty times. Better that than the angry messages from the Illusive Man, she tells herself. The ones promising retribution for her betrayal... and thanking her for her service.

She frowns as she walks to the window. Despite all the things she’s done and seen, all the things that Oriana wants to hear about, all the things she can’t tell a soul outside the crew, Miranda has no nightmares. There are no Collectors in her sleep, no half-liquefied bodies, no human-Reapers to terrify her out of her rest, and her father has finally disappeared from her dreams.

It’s just Shepard that keeps her awake.

She runs a hand through her hair. _Warm milk,_ she thinks. _It’s what I’d tell Oriana if..._ Miranda sighs. _If Oriana had a crush on someone and couldn’t sleep._ It’s unsettling to know the exact problem she’s dealing with and have absolutely no idea what to do. She’d reply to Oriana, but there isn’t really a point. Shepard had been, if not explicit, fairly clear that she wouldn’t get involved with her crew, despite half the bloody ship being interested. How very Alliance of her.

 _Warm milk._

Miranda pushes herself up from her chair, leaving the console blinking with its notices of unread messages. She’ll get some milk from the mess. Hopefully it’ll help. Miranda needs to sleep, and she knows it, but the only thing she thinks of when she looks at the bed is...

“Commander.” Miranda hopes the shock in her mind doesn’t carry to her voice. She expected the mess to be empty at this hour, and she knows Shepard’s habits. It’s her job to know Shepard’s habits, and Shepard rarely leaves the command deck for anything other than meals and check-ins with her crew.

Shepard looks at her, blue eyes holding more than her face lets on. “Miranda. What has you up at this hour? I think we’ve all finally earned some rest.”

Miranda knows she isn’t blushing. She’s in strict control of simple things like that. But she _wants_ to, and that’s disconcerting enough. “Thinking about the future. What we saw, what’s coming... even if I wanted to rest, I’m not sure I could.”

“Ah. Maybe you should talk to Mordin.” Miranda doesn’t know if Shepard picked up on the lie, but there’s something about her smile that makes Miranda want to find out.

“About?”

“Creative uses of mass effect fields.”

She doesn’t get the joke. “I’m sorry?”

Shepard shakes her head, but she’s still smiling. “Don’t worry about it. But, really,” she leans back in her chair and crosses her arms under her chest and one leg over the other. The crew has started calling it the Shepard Position. “What’s on your mind?”

“The mission’s over, Shepard, you don’t need to coddle me anymore.” It’s pointless and cold, and Miranda says it because she can’t say what she really wants to say, which is that Shepard is what’s on her mind. She doesn’t even understand _why_ she wants to say it, and Miranda hates not knowing something, especially about Shepard.

“Is that what you think I do? Coddle my crew?” These occasional flashes of steel always intrigue Miranda. The fire lights up behind the commander’s eyes, and Miranda can swear she sees hints of the old scars from the reconstruction. It sends a warm tingle down her spine. She knows Shepard is tough - hell, the whole galaxy does by this point - but that’s usually a toughness with a side of honey. What was that old saying about catching flies?

 _You catch more flies with honey._ It was never a philosophy she had understood, until Shepard. With a sigh, Miranda shakes her head, voice almost apologetic. “No. But I’m not just another member of your crew.”

“Oh?” Again, there’s something in her face that makes Miranda want to question the response. But this time she doesn’t. She doesn’t want to be on the outside of any more inside jokes. At her silence, Shepard continues. “Because you’re the Illusive Man’s number one agent, or because you’re perfect?”

Anger and shame ignite and burn quickly in Miranda. They always do, when someone brings _that_ up. “I told you I’m not perfect. I’m only human.”

Shepard leans forward, and reaches her hand out, placing it on Miranda’s arm. Miranda flinches, but it just hardens Shepard’s resolve, even though her voice, when she speaks, is soft. “I know. I saw that on Illium. But, Miranda... what does that even _mean_? To be only human?”

“It means,” she says, voice cool, “that I’ll never be a Commander Shepard, no matter how many modifications I get.”

“Is that what you want?” The question is asked quietly, and Shepard’s leaned back, almost slumping in her seat. “My job?”

“You’re more than your job. You’re...” She does laugh now, but the sound is vacant. This is a joke that Shepard isn’t in on. “A bloody hero. You could lead armies. You’re brilliant and charismatic and strong. You’ll save everyone. And-”

“And?”

“Nothing.”

Shepard frowns as she stands. “When you’re ready to talk, you know where I’ll be.” She hovers, as if trying to decide something. “I should go.”

“Commander. Sheppard... wait.” Miranda stands also, and walks around the table to where Shepard is. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. You’re -”

“A part of your crew. I know.” Miranda shakes her head. “Why did you take me? For that last leg of the mission. You could have taken Jacob, Garrus, Tali, why me?”

“I took Grunt too.”

“Right. I’m sorry I asked.” She’s turned already, in her mind, halfway back to her quarters and the safety of solitude.

But Shepard’s hand on her shoulder keeps her from moving. “I brought you because I trust you.”

Miranda turns. Shepard doesn’t drop her hand. “Just like that? You had no idea I wouldn’t betray you to the Illusive Man.”

“Yes I did.”

“How could you?”

Shepard looks at her for a long, silent moment. A thousand things fly through Miranda’s mind, as she tries to understand how she came to this moment in time, with this woman, at the other side of a suicide mission, alive and waiting for -

“Because you’re human just like me.” The words are strong, sure, and they brook no argument. Not that Shepard’s ever do. So when she closes the space, pushing closer to Miranda, getting into her personal space, Miranda doesn’t move.

“But you like aliens.”

“Right now I like humans.” Shepard’s words are whisper soft, her breath warm against Miranda’s lips. “Right now I like you. So, Miss Lawson, how about it?”

For the first time in a very long time, Miranda is incapable of forming more than just simple words. “It?” She swallows, sure she’s blushing even though she shouldn’t be. Couldn’t be. “What?”

In lieu of words, Shepard kisses her, sliding a hand over her hip and puling her close. Miranda is too confused by everything to do anything more than kiss Shepard back. Nothing about this makes sense, but it seems like the most natural thing in the world.

They break apart for air. Miranda half-smirks, because she’s less breathless than Shepard is. But she has too many questions. No, she has one question: “What were you saying about mass effect fields?”

Shepard, who had been staring at Miranda with a vaguely worried expression, laughs. “I think it’s better if I show you...”

Miranda’s skin tingles, and she leans forward, pressing her forehead against Shepard’s. “I want to, but I-”

“With everything we’ve seen and been through... Miranda. Don’t question. Just go with it.”

There are tears at the corners of Miranda’s eyes. “I don’t know how.”

For a long moment, Shepard says nothing. She brushes hair back from Miranda’s face, wipes a tear from her cheek, and plants a small kiss at the edge of her mouth. Miranda stands silently, completely frozen by the tiny gestures of affection from someone who is usually so guarded. From her commander. From Shepard. She’s never been more afraid in her life, but never felt safer, either. Shepard is a contradiction. It’s what makes her amazing.

The Commander smiles a slow, sultry smile and steps back, pulling Miranda with her towards the elevator. “I’ll show you that too.”

Miranda doesn’t get sleep for a very long time. She doesn’t mind at all.

 _From: Miranda Lawson_

 _Oriana,_

 _Warm milk just the thing._

 _Love,  
Miranda  
_


End file.
